


flowers at his feet (and above him, stars)

by venvephe



Category: Hockey RPF, Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Florists, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 01:49:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12378384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venvephe/pseuds/venvephe
Summary: Here’s the thing about being born into a family of witches: you learn that the unexpected and the unexplained are often two quite very different things.Andunexpectedis a tall guy with soft eyes and tattoos walking into your flower shop on a Thursday morning.





	flowers at his feet (and above him, stars)

**Author's Note:**

> It feels like a long time since I've written and shared some hockey fandom work, but hockey always has a place in my heart - it's good to be back into it! This is my first piece for the October Bennguin Bingo, checking off that sweet, sweet "AU: Magic" square! All my love to my fellow Bennguin writer ladies; this wouldn't exist without your help! And thank you especially to Sarah, for cheerleading me when I really needed some butt-kicking to get this finished.
> 
> This will end up being multi-chaptered at some point, but there's no way I'll make bingo if I don't put this to bed for now. Title from Victor Hugo's Les Miserables: “A garden to walk in and immensity to dream in--what more could he ask? A few flowers at his feet and above him the stars.” 
> 
> Enjoy some particularly self-indulgent magic and flowers and boys!

Here’s the thing about being born into a family of witches: you learn that the _unexpected_ and the _unexplained_ are often two quite very different things.

That’s not to say that one or the other is a bad thing, of course. There’s a certain special magic in his mother’s baking that even she can’t articulate, but nothing compares to the melty-warm magic that fills him when he tastes her latest sweet creation. And there’s definitely something weird that happens when you drive through Texas on a straight road that seems to go on forever, or when thunder clouds start to build and roll over long stretches of desert. The world’s still got plenty mystery yet, his mother would say, and that’s all the more reason to respect the magic that you know about.

So unexplained - yeah, he’s learned to live with that.

It’s the _unexpected_ that sneaks up on you.

 _Unexpected_ had been when the plants in the Seguin garden had whispered to him, as a child. _Unexpected_ had been the way plants flourished under his touch, the way flowers swiveled their heads to face him like he was the sun. _Unexpected_ was feeling drawn south, far from home, falling in love with a place that’s all open plains in patchwork greens, a blue sky that seems to stretch forever.

He’s made a life for himself here, though. Tyler wouldn’t have picked Texas if it didn’t feel right, for all that his sisters shook their heads at him. They didn’t get it, yet; their Callings still hadn’t manifested, wouldn’t for a few more years. They visit, at least, filling his peaceful little florist’s shop with their upbeat chatter and banter. He only has to remind them every ten minutes that they shouldn’t use magic in the shop, lest they hurt the plants. Or lest a customer walk in on them, gods forbid. At least his shop is popular enough that frequent customers seeing something they shouldn’t is actually a problem that Tyler has.

But when he isn’t entertaining the girls on one of their visits - and when it’s early enough that customers are unlikely to stroll through the shop doors - Tyler lets himself indulge a little.

It’s the end of summer, warm and damp in the morning with dew, and Tyler lets loose a little magic as he strolls through the rows of flowers. The orchids sway towards him as he passes, their lion-like heads on long, green stems sleepily following his movements. The cornflowers murmur has he runs his fingers gently through the soft blue blooms, the chrysanthemums fluttering happily in his wake. None of them have eyes but they follow his presence as he moves around the greenhouse nonetheless, and he rewards them with the tender warmth of his magic. He’s proud to say his flowers are the most vibrant, the brightest and biggest in all of Dallas, and even his regular, non-magical customers delight in telling him that he’s certainly got a green thumb.

 _They’ve got that right,_ Tyler thinks as a bucket of sunflowers perk up at his touch. The season is about finished for them, but he’s always had a fondness for sunflowers. If only people responded as well to magic as his flowers do. His fingers glow as he arranges the yellow crowns of petals, the wide faces of the flowers sighing and humming in a faint melody.

The bells above the shop door chime merrily and Tyler starts a little, pulling his hands away and magic fading from his fingertips. He’d been so lost in thought and in the soothing, comforting feel of using his own magic that he hadn’t realized the time, wouldn’t have noticed someone walking into the shop if it hadn’t been for the bells.

That’s why his mother had made sure to install them, the first time she visited. The Seguin witches are all cut from the same cloth, after all.

Tyler wipes his hands on his apron and leaves the sunflowers in their bucket, heading for the front counter. It’s tucked into the side of the greenhouse, almost throne-like in how it’s surrounded by towering seedlings and a wall mounted with a carpet of living grasses. It makes for a good first impression, he’s found - and he’s always liked the color green.

“Can I help you?” he calls, ducking under the counter to look for his clipboard. There’s a soft hello and the sound of feet approaching, and when Tyler looks up he nearly bangs his head on the lip of the counter.

Listen: there’s no shortage of cute boys in Dallas. Tyler would know - that’s what bars and clubs are for, and there’s always a parade of men that come to the shop leading up to the middle of February. But if Tyler had a type, it would be - it would be _him_.

He’s tall - maybe even taller than Tyler himself, which would be a feat - and casually muscular, soft enough around the jaw that he looks approachable rather than imposing. His hair is shaved close on the sides but long on the top, curling damply and falling into his face a bit in the morning humidity. Tyler can’t make out the words but there’s a dark pattern of ink on both of the man’s arms, and his pulse thuds in his throat as he follows the bare skin down to where he’s got his hands in his pockets, denim stretching over the thick meat of his thighs.

But his eyes are a warm brown, and he looks concerned when Tyler’s skull makes a resounding _thunk_ on the underside of the wooden countertop. He’s a study in contrasts, and it’s far too early for such a vision to appear in Starflower’s.

Yeah. _Unexpected_ is a tall guy with soft eyes and tattoos walking into your flower shop on a Thursday morning.

“Are you all right?” the guys asks, “Sorry if I startled you, I-”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Tyler waves off his concern, willing the flush across his cheeks to go away. _Cassidy_ is the one who’s good at cosmetic charms, he couldn’t have gotten any of _that_ in addition to talking to plants? “Just surprised me, that’s all. Is there something I can help you with?”

The guy glances away, running a hand through his hair as he glances around the shop. Tyler gnaws on his lower lip, distracted by the sheer size of his hands -  god, is there any part of this guy that didn’t walk straight out of a Tyler Seguin fantasy? - and his heart trips in his chest when they make eye contact again.

“Yeah, I mean, I think so?” Tall with Tattoos says, “I haven’t really done this before - um. Can I buy some flowers? Is that a thing people do, walk into a shop and - buy flowers?”

Tyler would be annoyed at the stumbling if it wasn’t so insanely adorable on a guy that looks like he could squat Tyler’s body weight. “Yeah, totally,” he chuckles, “That’s what I’m here for, man. You mean like an arrangement?”

“Yeah,” he looks relieved, sliding his hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt. His hair is just as rumpled as before he started combing his fingers through it, and Tyler can only smile. “Exactly. Sorry, it’s - something from the grocery store just wouldn’t cut it, you know?”

“Sometimes you need something just a little more special,” Tyler agrees, drumming his fingers on the counter. _Please let this not be a girlfriend thing,_ he hopes. God, since when was he as nervous as a high-school sophomore in front of a hot guy? His magic feels like a swarm of bees in his chest, energetic and fizzing and ready to spark at any moment. “We’ve got some pre-made arrangements, too, but if you’re looking for something custom, I think there should be enough time for me to whip something up for you right now.”

It’s almost like a reflex for him to wink, and there’s no other word for it: the guy’s face lights up, a pleased flush crossing his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. It’s like the sun has come out, his warm, brown eyes even brighter - and like his plants, Tyler can’t help but bask in the face of the sun.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” he says, “I’d really appreciate it. Could I - could I make a request, too? Sorry, I’m sure you’re busy-”

“Just me and the plants this morning,” Tyler grins, gesturing around him. He tries not to notice that the rosebuds follow the movement of his hands like watchful puppies. “And no need for all the apologies, man! What, did I find the only other Canadian in the entire state of Texas?”

Tyler gets another smile, followed up with a sheepish chuckle. “Sorry, that obvious? You’re almost right, though. Me and my older brother make two. Wait, you’re-”

“Born and raised,” Tyler nods, calling over his shoulder as he turns to get a vase. When he turns back around, the guy’s leaning one hip against the counter, arms crossed in a way that makes his biceps flex in a way that raises Tyler’s blood pressure again. But on this guy it looks natural, not at all a show of what he’s got - and boy, does he have arms to show off - and the relaxed, earnest smile on his face does just as much for Tyler’s over-excited heart. “Toronto, actually.”

“Victoria,” the guy gestures to himself, cheeks dimpling, and Tyler has to think about not tripping over his own feet. “What brings a Toronto kid all the way down to Texas?”

“I could ask you the same question, Mr. -”

“Jamie. Just, uh- just Jamie,” and he holds out of one those strong hands for Tyler to shake.

Tyler takes it, and they shake, and it’s everything Tyler can do to hold his magic in his chest, stop it from spilling over like champagne. It’s a bright, fizzy feeling that lingers even when they’re no longer in contact, and it’s a good thing that Jamie’s eyes are still on Tyler’s face and he doesn’t see the way every flower in the goddamn place either leans forward or swivels to look at the two of them.

“Tyler,” he says, unable to help his grin, and he turns back to the vase before something ridiculous comes out of his mouth. Or his fingers start glowing. They’re equally likely to happen at this point. “What was your request again, Just Jamie?”

“Oh! Right,” Jamie scratches the side of his jaw, eyes sliding over to watch as Tyler places a pair of scissors on the counter alongside the vase. “Can you do something mostly white and green? It’s for my brother so nothing too, um - pink.”

“Got it,” Tyler gives him a thumbs-up and turns to peruse the array of cut flowers behind him. It gives him the perfect opportunity to get in a little fist pump for himself, because _hell yes!_ Flowers for Jamie’s _brother_ means maybe - well, he’s getting a little ahead of himself, but who is he kidding - maybe he’s got some sliver of a chance. “So what _does_ bring two fine Canadian brothers to Texas?” 

Jamie huffs a quiet chuckle behind him, as he’s picking creamy-white gardenias and carnations from their different buckets. “You aren’t gonna believe it - hockey, actually.”

“Hockey?” Tyler raises an eyebrow over his shoulder at Jamie, who shakes his own head in amusement. “You could try being less Canadian, eh?”

“Tell that to Jordie,” Jamie sighs. “He’s the one that actually plays. Got injured recently, actually - hence the flowers.”

Tyler winces in sympathy. “Ouch, man. He play for a team around here?”

“The Dallas Stars. Good team, but of course everyone down here cares more about the Cowboys.”

“That’s the damn truth,” he deposits the flowers he’s gathered into the vase - a few more carnations, in a vivid green this time, some white hyacinth, spiny-looking sea holly that reminds him of fireworks. They coo a little under his touch, trembling at the magic diffusing from his fingertips, but he plays it off as fussing with exactly how they sit in the water. Tyler plucks at them here and there as he talks, rearranging them so the hyacinth sits tall and dramatic, cushioned by the silky gardenias. “The Stars, though, that’s cool. I played hockey when I was a lot younger, before- ” _before his Calling, before the herbs in his mother’s garden wanted to gossip and talk about the weather, before -_ “uh, before I moved to Dallas. Didn’t think there was much hockey down here in Texas.”

Jamie perks up at that; Tyler didn’t think his brown eyes could get any brighter. “I did, too! Got injured a lot sooner than Jordie did, though. Still ended up following him down here when I went to college for sports physical therapy - it’s the little brother in me, I guess.”

Tyler looks up from his arrangement to catch Jamie’s eye, and it’s amazing how quickly a blush returns to his cheeks when Tyler makes a bit of a show of glancing down at his tattooed arms. “Not much about you I’d call little,” he says, and has to fight down a wide grin at Jamie’s resulting cough. “But that’s cool - physical therapy? I’m good with plants, and I hope they do make people smile, or feel better, or whatever. But you actually _make_ people feel better.”

Jamie shrugs, somewhere between sheepish and humble, matter-of-fact. “It’s what I love to do. I’m sure you know your way around this - ” he gestures around the greenhouse, to the cheerful orange-yellow marigolds and celosia and begonias, all of whom are actually raptly eavesdropping on their conversation, “ - which I gotta admit, I couldn’t ever do. I could barely keep a cactus alive, here in _Texas_. But I know my way around the human body.”

Tyler pauses from where he was fluffing the carnations, putting the last few touches on the arrangement. Jamie reddens.

“I mean,” he says, pressing his lips together to stop his own grin as he takes in Tyler’s mounting smile. “You- you know what I mean.”

“Pretty sure I do,” Tyler chuckles, enjoying the view as Jamie’s flush moves to his ears. “Do you want a vase, or is wrapped in paper fine?”

Jamie gladly seizes the change in topic. “Paper is fine, I think. I’ll get them in water as soon as I’m home.”

“Aw, you know a little about plants, at least,” Tyler teases. They stand in companionable silence as Tyler cuts a large square of waxed paper, wrapping the ribbon-bound stems of the bouquet in a perfect cone so that the blooms don’t get crushed. Thankfully, the flowers have quieted by the time that Tyler hands the bouquet to Jamie, though the energetic flutter of his magic in his chest has only lessened to _butterflies_ rather than _bees._

It takes only a few moments for Jamie to pay, bouquet tucked between his elbow and chest as he reaches for his wallet in a way that makes his tee stretch across the wide breadth of his shoulders. Tyler swallows thickly. Now that he’s not funneling some of his magic into flowers it’s starting to bubble over again, fizzy at the tips of his fingers and tingling the tips of his ears.

It’s some combination of that and the aching knowledge that within moments, Jamie’s going to walk out of his shop and back out into Dallas with no reason to cross his path again that makes Tyler open his mouth. “Um.”

Jamie looks up, all soft eyes and curious patience.

“You should get these to your brother and into water as soon as you can,” he begins, tilting his head, “but...if you want something easy to try to keep, for yourself, you should stop by when you have some time next week.”

Jamie’s face blossoms into a smile. “You know - yeah. I’d like that. My apartment could use some plants - if you think I would keep them alive.”

Tyler grins back at him, and has to shove his hands into his jeans pockets so that Jamie doesn’t see how his fingertips are suddenly a bright green-gold as his magic reacts to his own happiness. “Definitely, under my expert tutelage,” he replies. “You could show me some stretches, in return - it’s probably not too good for my legs to be on my feet so much every day.”

“Or your back,” Jamie nods, “but I know a few tricks and stretches that might help. You won’t be too busy next week?”

“Not too busy for you,” Tyler says, and nearly mentally kicks himself - but Jamie’s giving him some kind of soft smile he hasn’t seen yet, so maybe it isn’t so bad.

“Okay,” he says, shifting the bouquet in his hands. “Next week it is, then.”

“Tell your brother to get better from me, Just Jamie. See you soon?”

“Yeah,” Jamie chuckles, shuffling back a step and turning towards the door. “See you soon, Tyler.”

Tyler sighs as Jamie’s silhouette moves away from the greenhouse, white-and-green bouquet tucked under his arm. Of all the things that he would’ve expected to happen on a Thursday morning, meeting someone like Jamie wasn’t one of them. He can only hope that Jamie will make good of his offer and stop by the shop again next week - and that’s seven days of agonized waiting; hoping that the unexpected will happen a second time.

But hey, it’s only mid-morning, and he’s got the rest of the day ahead of him. Tyler tickles the yellow-faced orchid that had been unsubtly listening from over his shoulder the entire time, and it shakes with tiny laughs.

Only seven days. He’s got the feeling that Jamie’s worth the wait.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr as [venvephe](http://venvephe.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/ven_writes) as well!


End file.
